


Meet Me Halfway

by justbreathe80



Category: Greek
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-15
Updated: 2009-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbreathe80/pseuds/justbreathe80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She took a bite of her own brownie. This wasn't what she'd planned for her night at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Me Halfway

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to lordessrenegade for the cheerleading and the read-through. This is for everyone in the tiny Greek fandom - I'm happy to add to the canon!

Five.

The number of weekends she'd spent brushing her teeth in the bathroom while all of the sisters put on makeup and their hottest outfits and big smiles and went out to have a good time. To try to meet Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right-until-I-wake-up-and-see-him-withou

t-beer-goggles. After everything that had happened with Evan and Cappie and Max and ZBZ over the past year, she was exhausted herself.

Ashleigh had graduated from poking and prodding her to come out, to Dobler's, to Lambda Sig, _anywhere_ ("you have to get out of this house, for god's sake, Casey!" she shouted one Saturday, her face red and her eyes half-bugged out of her head, everyone's eyes on them in an instant) to just smiling at her sadly as she flitted off somewhere to meet Fisher. To have a great time with her _boyfriend_.

It wasn't that Casey didn't want to be in a relationship, or didn't think she was ready. If there was anything that she had learned in the last year, among many things, it was that _she_ did want to be in a relationship. She had also learned that not everything was up to her, or could be created by sheer will. That had been the hardest lesson to learn.

It was an unseasonably warm November evening, her outside door open just a little to let in the balmy night air. As Casey walked into her room, pulling her hair back from her face, she could see the girls scurrying out of the house, across the street and down and off to do a million things they'd regret in the morning. She figured she was safe in the house, with her book and her box set of _Battlestar Galactica_ (a gift from Max, one that she'd been surprised she wanted to keep) and a half-gallon of rocky road.

Casey sat crosslegged on her bed, white tank top and blue pajama pants, trying to remember if she'd stashed a bag of Cheesaritos in her room somewhere, or if they were all downstairs. Under her bed seemed a promising spot, so she leaned her torso over the side and dangled her head down to look underneath. She thought she saw something red, but it turned out to be a sock that she had been missing for _weeks_. And a book for her 19th Century British Lit class that she'd already bought another copy of. Wow, she should really clean under there more often.

"Well, that's certainly a perspective on you I haven't had before."

Jesus. Casey whipped her head up so fast that she almost overbalanced and ended up on the floor. She managed a last-minute save which left her clinging to the edge of the bed. "Ow, head rush," she gasped, clutching her forehead, managing what she thought was a pretty solid glare at the same time. "Thanks a lot, by the way. You scared the crap out of me."

Cappie threw his hands up in surrender (well, his hand, because he had a plate of something in the other) but his face certainly didn't match, a smirk curling up the side of his lip. "Hey, that was all you. What were you doing, anyway?"

"It doesn't matter," Casey said dismissively, not wanting to admit that she was looking for Cheesaritos to eat while watching a geeky (and _awesome_) scifi show on a Saturday night. She wanted Cappie to think that she had a dozen guys beating down her door, and that she was out every night of the weekend, that she barely had time to _sleep_.

Cappie dropped his hand and crossed the room to sit on Casey's bed, close enough that she could feel him, skin hot through his layers of jeans, t-shirt, and flannel. The plate he was holding looked like it had brownies on it, and she was about to ask him what the hell he was doing when another head popped into sight in the doorway.

"Hey."

"Evan? What are you doing here?" Okay, this was officially _not_ the night she had planned.

Evan ducked inside, hands stuffed in his pockets, painfully unsure (she'd just started to notice how often he did that, how his apparent confidence didn't seem to be impenetrable, especially now). Cappie didn't move, didn't say anything, and if she didn't know better, she'd think they came _together_. Then she remembered everything that she wasn't supposed to know. "Aren't you guys supposed to be mortal enemies? What if someone sees you together?"

Cappie chuckled, shifting enough that Casey could smell him now, and she tucked her legs up again and took a deep breath.

"We were pretty sure you wouldn't tell," Evan said, starting to smile slyly, scarily looking kind of like Cappie when he did it.

"So," she said, feeling a bit like she had whiplash, and also like they were being intentionally infuriating and not explaining already, "to what do I owe this pleasure? I thought there was a big six-pack mixer at Gamma Psi tonight, Evan."

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly the most popular guy at Omega Chi these days. I didn't think they'd miss me, so I told them I had to work. I ran into Cappie after I left the house."

"And what is _with_ the brownies?" she said, turning her gaze to Cappie, who seemed to have gotten closer since the last time she looked at him. It was hard to think with him so near, hard not to get distracted by the way his hair hit the collar of his shirt.

This time, Cappie's smile was so wide he showed his teeth, a rare more-than-smirk. "I heard a rumor that you liked brownies, so Evan and I here decided to procure some for you from the Psi Phi Pi house."

Casey could feel her mouth drop open. "I've always wanted to try pina colada shampoo," Cappie continued, and when Casey turned to look at Evan he was trying to hold back a grin as big as Cappie's. At least she knew that there was something different about the two of them at that moment, because Evan could help himself.

"It's pretty good," Evan said, deadpan.

She sighed, pulling her leg subtly away from where Cappie's seemed to be creeping across the space between them. "This was not exactly the night I had planned."

"What exactly were you planning to do tonight, Casey?" Cappie asked, voice full of mock innocence that was as out of place on Cappie as a ankle length skirt on a Tri Pi. "Other than something infinitely more exciting than our proposition, of course."

"It was exciting!"

"Tell us then," Evan chimed in, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, propping his chin up on his hand.

"Just give me a damn brownie," Casey said irritably, turning away from Evan, but not before she saw something in his eyes that was so achingly familiar that it felt like a punch in the chest. She grabbed a brownie off the paper plate in Cappie's hand, and then snatched the plate for herself, holding it out to Cappie. "Well? This isn't just my party."

"Fair enough." Cappie popped half of a brownie into his mouth before sliding almost elegantly off of the bed, onto his knees on the carpet, holding the plate out to Evan like an offering. Casey's whole right side felt suddenly cold, and the rest of her suddenly hot. "Eat up, Chambers."

For a moment, no one in the room was looking at Casey. Cappie picked up a brownie off of the plate and held it out toward Evan's mouth, something hot and challenging in his eyes. Casey couldn't look away.

She took a bite of her own brownie. This wasn't what she'd planned for her night at all.

*****

Casey never remembered that she didn't really like to get high until she was. It always seemed like a good idea at the time, but once she got going the whole world went fuzzy and she got freaked out and it ended up not being so much fun. Then again, it was kind of interesting how everything was moving at about twenty-five percent slower than normal, and her hands felt really heavy, and Cappie's ears looked funny. And her whole right side felt like it was against a furnace.

Oh wait. That might be because Cappie was leaning against her, both of their backs propped up against the side of her bed. She turned her head to the side what felt like way too slowly, almost comical, and saw that Evan was propped up there too, on her left side, legs sprawled out in front of him. In front of them were three bags of Cheesaritos that seemed to have appeared from nowhere (maybe they were under her bed after all?). She could remember every moment that led to this one: eating three brownies in a row, fast, the three of them demolishing the plate, Casey sliding off the bed at some indeterminate point after that, like she didn't have bones anymore, Evan laughing at her and asking her if she wanted him to go get any of the products from the shower, try them out. At the same time, it all felt like some kind of bizarre time warp -- like deja vu or something.

Evan turned his head to her, looking like he was still laughing at something, and then she remembered that he had done some kind of faux strip tease on his way over to sit next them, Cappie catcalling him as he stripped down to his boxers and undershirt. "Hey."

She couldn't help but smile back at him, even though the hair on his thighs was really, really distracting. "Hey yourself."

"Hmmm..." Cappie breathed into her neck, and she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her. She knew that Evan had seen it. "God, how did the two of you even get to ZBZ from Psi Phi Pi on this stuff? It's seriously unreal."

"Sheer determination, I think. Or dumb luck," Evan answered hazily, pulling one of his legs up and exposing the skin of his inner thigh. It wasn't like Casey could feel that bad that she was thinking about what it felt like to run her hand against the smooth skin there, thumbs pushing through the coarse hair leading up to...

Cappie shifted and started to move away from her. She almost whimpered from the lack of warmth, but she barely had time to miss it before she felt Cappie's strong hand, the metal of his rings cold around her arm -- a grip she remembered well -- just above her elbow. "Case," Cappie said, still very, very close. He tugged gently, and Casey fumbled around gracelessly until she was right up against Cappie, hands against his chest, looking straight into his eyes.

"Cap," she said, blinking her eyes, trying to clear the lights around the edges of her vision.

Cappie reached up to push a wayward lock of hair out of her face, fingering it deliberately, getting distracted, before he tucked it back behind her ear. "It's probably a good thing that we stayed in, huh? We wouldn't want the trees to get you."

"Shut up," she said, almost growling.

"Hey, Evan?" Cappie said, leaning around Casey's shoulder. Casey looked at Evan, who had both knees up now, looking almost vulnerable, young.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for this preemptively." And then, Cappie's hands were on her face, pulling her back around, and his mouth came down on hers. It was almost like some kind of weird dream. She could hear her own heartbeat in her head, feel the strange, foreign weight of her hands pressed up against Cappie's chest, sandwiched between them now, Cappie's tongue soft and wet against her lips. She knew she should stop, should make sure that Evan was okay, stop this thing from happening that was long past them now, or at least should be. But she felt like she was on fire, like someone had lit a match and held it to the top of her head, and she wanted so much it was burning her up. She pried her hands out from between them with no insignificant effort, and wrapped her arms around Cappie's back, letting herself get lost in the real sensation of Cappie easing her mouth open with his tongue.

In another situation it would have been surprising, but she didn't feel like it was when she felt a hand curve around her side, blunt, soft fingers skimming just under the hem of her tank top. If she couldn't feel Cappie's hands against her face like a brand, she would have been able to pretend that it was him. Cappie's thumbs were sliding against her cheekbones, and she did the only thing that made any kind of demented sense in this situation. She moved one hand from where it was bunched in the fabric of Cappie's flannel shirt and reached around to tangle her fingers with Evan's.

Finally, Cappie came up for air, gasping and grinning at her like he'd just won the mother of all beer pong games. Casey stared at him, trying to catch her own breath, but having a hard time with the way that Evan's hand was sliding across the small of her back, making her gasp in spite of herself. Cappie's eyes shifted way from her, over her shoulder.

"Sorry," Evan said quietly, starting to pull his hand away, but Cappie didn't seem to be having any of the problems with his reaction time that Casey was. Before Evan could even pull his fingertips away, Cappie's hand wrapped around his wrist. She didn't need to see to know what was happening -- she could feel it, Cappie returning Evan's hand to the base of her spine, where her shirt rode up, the press of their palms together hotter than anything.

Cappie stripped his flannel shirt off, the way the cuffs got tangled around his wrists betraying that he wasn't immune to the Psi Phi brownie at all, but he managed to get out of it and toss it toward Ashleigh's bed. "Where were we?" he said, almost breathless, and she could feel Evan's lips against her neck, her shoulder, _god_, as Cappie brought their mouths together again.

It felt like, before, they were just messing around, like they were starring in the PG rated version, but at the moment that Evan pressed his body against her back, hard up against her ass, everything moved into a different gear, like they were racing for the finish line after sauntering through the first few laps. Casey found herself groaning into Cappie's mouth, still sealed onto hers.

"Jesus," Cappie mouthed against her lips, licking at the corner of her mouth. Evan's hands were starting to drag up the front of Casey's shirt, baring the underside of her breasts to Cappie's gaze, Evan framing them with the span of his fingers but not touching. Cappie took Casey's earlobe into her mouth, breath unbearably hot, lighting her up all over again. "Evan's going to take your shirt off, okay?"

Before she could even stop herself, Casey was arching back against Evan's chest. She could hear the _yes yes yes_ in her head, but instead she blurted out, "I'm not supposed to have boys upstairs!"

Cappie snorted. "A bit a late for that one, Case, and not really on topic."

Evan laughed against her neck, a low grumble, then said, voice rough and achingly familiar, "Can I?" Like he still wasn't sure of her. She didn't feel sure of anything.

"God, yes, what are you waiting for?" she spat out, and then Cappie was helping him pull her shirt up over her head, doing a fair impersonation of coordinated now. She felt naked in a million ways, the soft fabric of Evan's shirt against the skin of her back, grounding her, while Cappie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned forward to swipe his tongue across her nipple.

If anyone asked, she would deny up and down that she squeaked out loud, completely undignified and uninhibited. Cappie had always known exactly how to play her body like this. She was absurdly grateful that the three brownies she ate made her not give a flying _fuck_ what she sounded like. She spared a second's worth of thought for the fact that Ashleigh could come home at any moment, that anyone could come home early for the night, and that she didn't have the best track record when it came to being high, but Evan's fingers weaving into Cappie's hair derailed _everything_. Every last hazy, disjointed thought.

Cappie froze, holding her nipple in his mouth, backing off enough that Casey felt like she could clear her head, just a little, but he didn't move away from Evan's touch. They had Casey trapped between them, and wasn't that just like old times? "Evan," Cappie said evenly, lips moving against Casey's breast as he spoke, making her shake. "I thought we didn't do this anymore."

She thought she must must have heard wrong, because she was pretty sure that Cappie said they didn't do this _anymore_, not never. She was also pretty sure she would care if everything wasn't moving in slow motion and technicolor. "Well, we're doing a lot of things these days that I thought we didn't do anymore," Evan answered, his voice a bit shaky, and Casey watched as Evan's fingers wound tighter into Cappie's hair, like they were making a home there. In some vague, not-baked universe, she knew this shouldn't feel right, but it seemed like they were all exactly where they were supposed to be somehow.

"Fair enough," Cappie said, breaking his connection with Evan, his voice muffled as he pulled his own t-shirt up and over his head. He was looking right at Evan over Casey's head, Evan still pressed up against her back, harder than before. She wondered if maybe they needed a moment alone (she also couldn't remember what happened to her shirt...oh, right).

"Guys," Casey said, not sure what else she wanted to say.

Cappie didn't break eye contact with Evan. "You want to stop, you say so now." Cappie blinked, eyes heavy-lidded. Casey wanted to ask who he was talking to. Maybe it didn't matter.

"I'm good." Casey said, shifting up onto her knees, gesturing her hand between them, feeling ridiculous and exposed, "you just, you know --" She turned her back and tugged at her comforter, feeling like she needed to _do_ something before she accidentally started making her less-than-optimal brain actually think about what was going on here. She was fairly certain this was one of those critical moments in life where there was a decision to make that would change everything, and she had to try to make it while under the influence of three pot brownies, with no shirt on, and her two ex-boyfriends on either side of her, looking at each other in a way that was unexpected and completely logical at the same time.

Casey had little confidence in her own ability to make the right decision here. They had been building something fragile, something almost nostalgic, between the three of them over these last few weeks. She wanted to keep that, and she knew, through the pot-induced fog in her head, that this wasn't the way to do it. As she moved away from where Cappie and Evan were almost facing off, spreading the blanket out on the floor between her bed and Ashleigh's, she'd convinced herself that maybe this was what they had needed all along.

Whatever she needed to tell herself.

She spent longer than she needed to smoothing the edges of the comforter against the floor, a bit paralyzed by the intent behind what she was doing, and a bit mesmerized by the brightness of the pink. When she finally turned back around to face the bed, she couldn't look away from what she saw.

Cappie and Evan were sitting about where they had been when she extracted herself from them, but they'd moved closer to each other, Cappie's left hand almost tentative against Evan's hip. "Come on, Evangelina Jolie, don't pussy out on me," Cappie said, challenging, the corner of his mouth turned up.

"Don't call me that," Evan said, with no bite. In fact, he was smiling too, and his fingertips came up to play across Cappie's cheekbone. Casey swallowed. "I don't pussy out."

"Whatever," Cappie said. "You sure you wouldn't rather go sit in the shower with Casey again and smell bath products?"

Evan groaned and cupped his hand around Cappie's neck. "Just shut the hell up," he almost-growled, and Casey couldn't help but lean forward, toward them, just a little bit, as Evan hauled Cappie in and kissed him.

It was quick and hotter than she'd expected, and there was something about the way that they moved together that told Casey, like the way she moved together with both of them, that this wasn't the first time. She watched them while she pushed her blue flannel pajama pants off and tossed them to the side. Their kiss was brief and hard and Casey almost didn't want them to stop, except that she was done waiting.

"Any day now," she said, sticky sweet, and they broke apart and turned toward her. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as both of their eyes went wide at the sight of her, like _hot naked girl_ was finally registering.

"Right," Cappie said, voice rough, hitting her almost as hard as touching them had, because her body knew what that voice meant. "What do you say, Chambers?"

Evan was still staring, and Cappie punched him on the arm. Hard. "Ow!" he said, rubbing his arm and glaring at Cappie. "I say we don't keep the lady waiting any longer."

For a little while, Casey lost track of time, of place, of almost anything but the way she felt, pressed between them, hands against her breasts, her neck, the small of her back, all blurring together. She was almost glad of the soft edges around everything -- how she couldn't always be quite sure of who was touching her, and how little she cared. Everything felt surreal but familiar, Cappie laughing against her neck as he rolled her over on the comforter, Evan growling playfully into her ear as Cappie mouthed at his neck. Things cleared up a bit when Evan hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down over her hips. She watched breathlessly as Cappie reached to work Evan's boxers down. Casey licked her lips and shimmied down to wrap her lips around Evan's cock, licking playfully at the head, listening to Cappie's low, nonsense murmur in Evan's ear and Evan's soft moans. She got lost in it, just like everything else that night, and found herself batting at Cappie's hands as he tried to push her away. "Hey," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Cappie leaned over to push her hair off of her face, where it had come loose from her ponytail. It was hard to stay mad when he did that. "As much as I enjoy watching you two be incredibly hot, I think I'd like a turn, if it's all the same to you."

"Uh," Casey said, and that was all she managed before Cappie pushed a boneless Evan over onto his back and put his own lips where Casey's had been.

Casey moved closer to Evan's side, turning his head and licking into his mouth, swallowing the sounds escaping his throat, as Cappie broke him down, piece by piece, and Casey held him down as Cappie pulled his mouth away and finished Evan off with his hand, until he spilled over Cappie's fingers.

They were all too tired and still baked and foggy with lust to get into anything much more complicated. Cappie practically climbed over Evan's panting body, after wiping his hand on Evan's t-shirt, to wrap Casey up in his arms, pressing their mouths together, to slide his hand down between her legs. She was almost embarrassed by the way Cappie groaned at how wet she was, his fingers slipping frictionless against her clit. "Jesus," Cappie whispered, moving against her way too slow to push her over the edge she was clinging to, and then Cappie reached behind him to drag Evan's fingers down between them, moving with Cappie. That was what she needed to send her tumbling over too, clenching against Cappie's long fingers that slid inside her as she came.

When she blinked her eyes open, the world coming into a bit more focus than it had been earlier in the night, she saw Cappie staring at her (staring at her boobs, actually, which was almost comforting in a way) and Evan looking at her over Cappie's shoulder, his arm wrapped around Cappie's waist. She smiled at Evan, taking advantage of Cappie's momentary distraction to get on the same page, and then watched intently as Evan wrapped his hand firmly around the base of Cappie's dick (she couldn't remember when Cappie had lost his shirt and pants, but it hardly seemed to matter), holding him as she leaned over to take him in her mouth.

"Oh, god," Cappie groaned, and Casey could feel the tension in his body, his desire to push forward into her mouth, as she pressed him back into Evan with her palms on his hipbones. She tasted him, familiar, against her tongue. As Evan started stroked Cappie, tight and fast, Cappie's hand came to rest on Casey's head, resting there. "You two are going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Shut up and concentrate," Evan ordered as he sped up, making Cappie's dick twitch in her mouth. Casey could tell from the way that Cappie was getting harder against her tongue, from long hours of experience and experimenting, jaw sore and throat raw, of making Cappie come like this -- a lifetime away from this moment -- that he was close.

Casey pushed against his hips harder with her hands, getting a response from Evan too, his breath short, as Cappie pressed close to him. She _needed_ him to come, and she knew all the tricks by now, so she slid her tongue against the sensitive head of Cappie's uncut dick, underneath his foreskin, listening to him gasp. "Come on," Evan muttered as he worked, "come on." She felt it first, tasted him coming hot and strong against her tongue, into her mouth, before she heard him cry out, shaking and gasping and coming apart like he did every single time, like it was the best he'd ever had.

"Wow." Cappie's voice sounded strange, far away, and Casey had no idea how much time had passed, only that she had her cheek pressed against Cappie's hip, his taste still in her mouth. Evan's hand was splayed low, fingers spread against Cappie's stomach, holding him, and she knew it should start getting awkward any minute now.

"Yeah," Casey said, and she chuckled at the way that Cappie's body went rigid, just from the way her breath felt against him, still sensitive from coming.

Evan curled his hand around Casey's shouder. "Mrg," he said, sighing, eyes shut tightly, "peanut ice nugget."

Cappie snorted, and then they were laughing, Cappie's whole body shaking, and Casey tried to muffle her giggles as she moved up to lie face to face with Cappie. "I forgot that he did that," Cappie said, hiccuping, his smile lighting up everything, even though Casey's head was clearer than it had been the whole night. "You should have heard some of the stuff he used to say when we lived together. I was kind of hoping that he'd grow out of it after camp."

Casey let herself slide her hand into his hair, the strands soft between her fingers. "The first night we spent together, he said 'iguana french toast'. I almost died."

Cappie's smile softened, and he leaned over to kiss her, almost chaste. "We okay?"

Surprisingly, it actually felt okay. What she felt for Cappie filled up the whole room, wall to wall, even now with Evan there. If she was being honest, and she wasn't high enough not to be, it had never stopped consuming everything in its path. She didn't walk away from him those years ago because she didn't love him. In fact, it was the opposite. Cappie was everything she shouldn't want, but she couldn't help herself. And Evan -- the way he and Cappie fought and raged against each other all this time made some kind of convoluted sense now that she knew that Evan couldn't walk away either. And she couldn't help but remember how good things had been between her and Evan, once.

"Yeah, I'm good," she said softly, hoping he heard how much she meant it, then pushed at his shoulder. "Now, take him and get the hell out of here before someone comes home and busts me."

"Right." Cappie kissed her again, quickly, and then pried at Evan's hands holding him close. "Come on, verbal diarrhea, let's go."

Casey watched them stumble out, arms around each other, and when she realized how late it was, glancing at the clock, she rushed to pull her clothes on and make sure that her bed was back to its original state. She also tossed the empty Cheesaritos bags into the trash. Twenty minutes later, she was nonchalantly propped up against her headboard, lamp on and reading Great Expectations (the copy she'd found under the bed) when Ashleigh came in, tossing her earrings onto the dresser and faceplanting on her bed. "How was your night?" Casey said, closing her book and placing it on the nightstand.

"Good. Fisher and I went to some movie I didn't understand, then we hit Dobler's. He has to see 10 Things I Hate About You now, as payback."

"Sounds fun."

"How was your night?" Ashleigh said, turning her head to look at Casey in the dim lamplight. Casey didn't like the way Ashleigh was looking at her at all, and she reached up to snap off the light.

"Uneventful," Casey said casually.

Ashleigh sighed and Casey heard her shoes hit the floor. "Whatever. You know I'll just make you tell me in the morning."

"I know."

"Goodnight, Case."

"'Night." A moment later, Casey could hear Ashleigh's soft snores, but it was awhile before she slept, before she could stop replaying the whole night in her head. She fell asleep to the memory of their hands on her skin.

*****

Casey woke early on Sunday morning, quietly dressing and grabbing her bag, totally not avoiding Ashleigh's inevitable questions about last night's activities. She did actually have some reading she wanted to get done before class the next day.

It was a gorgeous clear and sunny day in Cyprus, and she took a deep breath before she headed down the street. She didn't even realize she was taking the long way, past the KT house, until she came face to face with Cappie on the sidewalk in front. He grinned at her, and all the awkwardness she was expecting managed to fizzle away.

"Hey," Cappie said, standing close to her, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Hey yourself," she shot back.

Cappie gestured at her bag. "You know, this isn't the quickest way to the library. I won't even get into how impossibly lame it is that you are going to the library on a morning like this."

"Some of us like to get our homework done sometimes, you know," she said, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder where it was slipping down. "Where are you off to so early?"

Cappie gestured in the general direction of Omega Chi. "I thought I'd check on Chambers, since I maybe sort of dumped him on the front steps last night."

"Cap!"

"I know! It seemed like a better idea than getting caught putting him to bed and having to explain that to one of his brothers. I'm sure he's fine."

Casey sighed, pulling the strap of her bag up on her shoulder. "Okay, I'll go with you."

The street was deserted this early, after everyone's late night last night -- nights that she was sure looked nothing like her own. Cappie's elbow bumped against her arm as they crossed the street, and she couldn't help but lean toward him, the memory of his touch still vivid on her skin.

As they approached Omega Chi, she could see that Evan was sitting on the front steps, a steaming cup in his hands, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and looking a little wary. "Calvin dragged me in when he got home, in case you were wondering," Evan said when they got close enough, eyebrows raised at Cappie. Cappie flopped down on the step next to Evan, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Casey had never realized that they used to do this, sit like this, back before everything between the two of them went to hell. She hadn't noticed then.

"Sorry about that. Seemed like the lesser of two evils."

"I get it, no worries." It hadn't felt awkward when she was walking with Cappie, but now the reality of what they'd done was hitting her as the three of them stood there, and Casey couldn't figure out what to say, or even what to do with her _hands_. She could tell that Evan was gathering himself up to say something, to question this -- she knew him better than anyone and she knew what that looked like.

And that was when Cappie, the master of avoidance, of all things _not_ talking about things that were important, swooped in and saved the day. He looked around and then leaned over to grasp Evan's chin, turning his face and planting a kiss on him. "Stop thinking so much, Chambers. You'll break your brain."

"Do you ever stop talking?" Evan said against Cappie's mouth, then pushed him away gently, hands against his shoulders.

"Never," Casey confirmed, at the same time that she was unbelievably grateful for Cappie's inability to shut the hell up. Cappie gave them both the finger halfheartedly and squeezed Evan's leg, right above his knee, before pushing himself up to his feet.

"My lady, can I escort you to the library this fine morning?" he said, bowing in front of Casey. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Come on, my lord. See you later?" she asked Evan, and Evan nodded, smiling a real, open smile in her direction for the first time in long time. And maybe, _maybe_ this would be okay, even sober and in the bright light of the morning after. She leaned over to kiss him, too, licking the taste of Cappie from his lips. "Bye."

"Bye, Case."

The walk to the library was at least twice as long as it would have been on her own, at a reasonable pace, and she found that she didn't care one bit. The campus was almost eerily silent as they weaved in and out of each other's orbits, and she felt her heart jump as Cappie's fingers tangled with hers somewhere near the student union, her head swimming and the edges bright, like it they'd been the night before, like she was still half-gone on Psi Phi Pi brownies.


End file.
